3AM Training Sessions
by ChronicCombustion
Summary: A series of battles: be it man versus man or man versus self, each one is a story waiting to be told. (Yu Yu Hakusho drabbles from my 3am Writing Challenge on tumblr. Some related, some not.) Various pairings. POV, genre, and ratings will vary.
1. Individual

So I came up with a daily writing challenge for myself over on tumblr to try and get back into writing with a little more consistency; the prompts are from Brian Kiteley's book, _The 3am Epiphany,_ (randomly picked via number generator,) and set to whatever song pops up on my mp3 player at the time. The filled prompts themselves span several of my favorite fandoms, so as a collective whole I've taken to calling it the 3am Series. Now I've titled everything so the parts are easy to find, but if you want a more organized series grouping then I totally recommend going and checking the 3am stories on my Ao3~  
(Descriptions of the book prompts are listed on my tumblr, under the tag '3am-challenge.')

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho, nor any of the characters/locations therein.

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3am Challenge Day 4  
Prompt: #158 - Individual (800 words)  
Song: Threads of Fate OST - Rasdan

Characters: Kurama, Hiei

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Tag team. Two on two.

With the roar of the crowd and the announcer's enthusiastic voice amplified three-fold over the speakers, it is a wonder the thoughts inside his own head are still audible.

Side step. Duck. Deflect an attack. Roundabout counterstrike. Slipping in and out of the fray with practiced ease. The scent of blood glazed against too-blunt teeth and fox-like canines aching to protrude and nip at the electrified air. He spins to the left, to the right, back again. Weaving out and around and dancing like a petal on the wind as his whip laces through the flesh of another body.

Black and red in his peripherals as Hiei leaps behind him and out of the way of his weapon. Heat in the air and he shifts his maneuver to accommodate his partner. He drowns out the noise, focuses on the scents, the patterns of color from his opponents.

 _Their_ opponents – his and Hiei's both – still plural, still alive and bidding for their blood.

He dodges, back flips, lands gracefully beside his partner. Green eyes burn with gold from eons past like the glint of dying sunlight off precious metal. Kitsune senses sing.

He feels Hiei move beside him and takes that as his cue to begin moving again. He glances to the left, catches his partner's nod, gives one of his own in return. The crowd falls away completely, the announcer's voice silenced against the adrenaline pounding through him and deafening his ears.

The whip, long and thin and overpowering in its scent of roses and blood: cool in his hand as he swings it like an extension of his own arm. It snags like talons against stony flesh and bites like a viper. Off comes the demon's arm. Fresh blood assaults his nose.

There is more heat, flame black and rising with otherworldly power and he takes cover behind his partner and the Dragon tears through the attacking demon's torso. One down.

He tucks his fingers up into his hair, bloodied knuckles mimicking the color of his sanguine strands. He throws the torn whip aside to let the thorns tangle and bury into the wayward feet of an unsuspecting foe. He feels his hair stand on end, like raised hackles, smelling of singed fur. Too close, the dark-flame Dragon has seared too close, Hiei knocked off balance by its force against a damaged leg.

Lean back, brace the weight of his partner, feeling Hiei's back against him as they hold their ground. The sounds of battle reach through the needle-focus, keeping his mind sharp and undistracted by the muted noise beyond the ring. Heat fades, movement at his shoulders as his partner's weight shifts. No more Dragon.

Heavy panting from the other side of the ring – an ugly smell like rotting corpses on the wind from the last remaining opponent's foul, ragged breaths. Still one to go.

His fingers clamp down on the tiny flare of power tied into his hair, little voice crying out to him – _use me! I want to help!_ The harsh sting of a seedpod, hard and edged like mountain stone between the already-torn pads of his too-human fingers. A burst of life and protective will fizzling up and over his hands, answered by energy of his own chanting _grow live FLOURISH_ in gold and green and silver.

Leaves and vines rip forth from the cuts on his arms, his wrists, his hands, a faint pulling as blood spills into the plant's stems and roots it to him. Not harmful, not to him, never to him. A bond, a father and child pair, with fighting instinct and vulpine territorial fury humming between them from fighter to weapon.

Another flash of black flitting to perch behind him and Hiei's aura spawns from nothing to hug at his spine. He is the shield now, instead of his partner.

A word growls from his mind and down the flow of his energy and he can feel it tangling in the flora wrapping his arms. _Kill._ The thought surges to life like the shrill cry of a cornered fox and GREEN floods his vision just before it is bathed in red life-blood and bits of violet flesh.

Death brings silence. Stillness. And though his sight returns to him, bringing the stadium back into reality, he cannot hear anything save for his own heartbeat. He is alive. They have won.

Sweat and wood smoke meet his nose and suddenly Hiei's voice is in his rounded human ears, far away but oh so close. The air thrums with vibrations that he cannot fully focus on yet – the yelling of the announcer and the cheering of the crowd.

There is a ringing there instead. Shock of survival rippling like white river foam just behind his skull.

They won.


	2. Absent

Disclaimer still applies.

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3am Challenge Day 8  
Prompt: #30 - Absent (800 words)  
Song: Marina and the Diamonds - Mowgli's Road

Characters: Kurama, Shiori M. mentions of Hiei

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You're setting the table for your mother, making idle chitchat while she finishes up making dinner for the two of you. The conversation is light, with topics such as how you're doing in school, have you seen any of your friends lately, things you can easily answer without elaborating on. None of it really requires your full attention, so you're taken off-guard when she asks a brand new question that you're fairly certain she hasn't asked before.

"So, Shuichi, is there anybody special in your life yet?"

Her tone is so bright and amiable that you can't be upset, but you still nearly squawk in surprise when she asks it. Suddenly you're paying much more attention to the conversation than you were before.

Hurriedly collecting yourself, you give out a strained laugh that you hope sounds easy; though you're certain Shiori isn't remotely fooled. "Ah, no Mother, not yet. I wanted to focus more on my studies this year."

It's a believable enough reason, after all. It's your first year at university and you've always been studious in nature. Surely someone as devoted to getting college-worthy grades in high school would be just as devoted to maintaining them once you got into an actual college setting.

But no, you were right, she doesn't believe you, and you can tell when she leans around the doorway to give you a _look._

"Shuichi."

Despite the fact that her tone is still friendly – albeit pointed – you nevertheless feel the need to shrink back a little in response. You truly are merged with your human half, you think, if you're balking at your own mother like a regular mortal child.

You open your mouth to speak but you haven't quite recovered enough to get your voice working so you snap it shut again and bite your lip instead.

She sighs but there is a warm, motherly chuckle mixed in so you know she isn't truly upset. Taking a moment to set her apron aside, she steps fully into the dining room and comes to stand by the table. Not close enough to frighten you away, but still near enough to warrant a proper conversation now. You're not foxing your way out of this one, it seems.

"Shuichi. Honey. I know school is important but so is your well-being." She reaches out and lays a hand on your shoulder. "Especially to me."

You have no response to that because you already know. A flick of your gaze towards the scars along her arm from a broken vase oh-so-long ago is more confirmation than you could ever need.

Her smile softens and the hand on your shoulder squeezes gently. "Please remember to take time for yourself? You've made a fine group of friends…" (And you have to smile at that because you're glad she likes them, even if she doesn't know what Team Urameshi really gets up to.) "…And I'm thankful you socialize at least a _little…"_ She winks, teasing, and you huff out a laugh at the break in tension.

She chuckles along with you before dropping the ball. "But I'm always hopeful you'll find romantic love one day, as well."

And there it is. You flush redder than your hair as you stare back at her.

"So, I ask again," she says, giving you a knowing look before you can speak. "Has anyone caught your eye? Any pretty girls?" Her smile becomes a smirk. "Pretty boys?"

Your expression must hold the answer she's looking for, because suddenly she's hugging you tightly. "Oh honey! If you were afraid I'd be upset, you can relax." She pulls back and grins brilliantly at you. "I'll admit I did wonder, but you know I'd never judge you for liking men."

You laugh breathlessly, relief surging through you. She looks so proud of herself that you can't bear to spoil the mood. "I… alright, yes, there is someone," you concede, hoping he doesn't hate you too much after this.

Her face lights up with joy. "Really?" she gasps, looking like an excited child. She sits abruptly and pulls her chair close to you, eyes sparkling. "Tell me everything! What's his name? How did you meet?"

You laugh awkwardly but sit across from her. "We aren't really _together_ yet…" She pouts and you quickly add, "But we're working on it! He has… trust issues. Rough childhood…"

This seems to appease her, so you continue. "His name is Hiei and we ah… we met through Yusuke." (It isn't _exactly_ a lie, you think.) "He can come off as a bit rude but I assure you he really is a good person."

She nods. "Good! He had better be." She smiles conspiratorially. "Is he handsome?"

Your stomach flutters and you smile stupidly. _"Very._ I particularly like watching him work out…"

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This one gave me issues. I had to cut out a lot of the extra humor and the way it finally ended up, I don't feel as if I stuck well to the original prompt. I'm not thrilled with how rushed some of it got, either, even with the bigger word count.  
But meh. Cute mother-son bonding moments. What can ya do?


End file.
